A Darker Twilight
by GetOutOfMyTrenchMariana
Summary: Do I look like someone who likes princesses? I asked, feeling ticked off. How many hours of this would I need to endure? What if Bella wasn't so sugar, spice and everything nice? And Edward had been just a tad bit less of a gentleman? Read to find out!


**Hello Everyone! My name is Sage and this is my very first twilight story. I really hope it doesn't bomb. It's exactly as the title says, a darker twilight. So, Bella is a little bit darker in character, same with all our vampy friends, and maybe even Mike Newton. I will give a high five to the first person to name all the songs used in this chapter! And remember; ****Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines. ****Hee hee!**

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_I can't escape this hell  
So many times I've tried  
But I'm still caged inside  
Somebody get me through this nightmare_

My music blasted from my headphones as my mom tried to convince me to stay home. I was purposely blocking her out now. She'd been repeating excuses for the past hour. No thanks; I'd rather _not_ hear Renee and Phil's night time activities in the next room. I'd rather stay with my  
father, in the dismal town of Forks. Oh joy.

"Mom. Mom, its fine." I held up my hands, trying to quiet her. We  
stood in the middle of the airport, people busily rushing around us to  
catch their flights. I would miss my flight too, if she didn't let go of  
my shoulders.

"Ill be okay." I said, as she leaned forward to hug me, chuckling

"Its not _you_ I'm worried about, it's the people of Forks."

I smirked. Yeah, they _should_ be worried. And they would be, once they got a good enough look at me. My big black combat boots, black skinny jeans, chains, trench coat, and black curls were warnings to everyone. Stay out of my face and I don't break _yours_. Yup, they'd be afraid, alright. Everyone always is. I'd be disappointed if they weren't. I was actually looking forward to the looks I'd get. Like I said, as long as everyone  
stays out of my face, nobody gets hurt.

"Ill try to behave." I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

With a police chief for a father, I wouldn't be getting away with much. Renee hugged me again one last time as my flight was called, and I hurried off with my carry on, which was a black parka. I found my seat easily, and turned my music up as loud as possible to block out everyone around me. I watched boredly as people filed in slowly, like usual. Most people were so incompetent it was unbelievable. A fat man stood next to my seat, trying to put his bag in the overhead compartment, and was having immense difficulties. He was practically poring sweat on me.

"Wow, you sure know what you're doing, don't you? I mean, you could win the gold medal in storing luggage!" I snorted, and he glared down at  
me. His face glistened with moisture and his mouth hung open. A flight  
attendant arrived, scowling at me, and took his bag from him. I  
smiled sweetly at her as she stowed his bag, and showed him to his  
seat. I cursed her under my breath. Just then, a little girl with blond pigtails popped up in front of me and I flinched.

"Hi!" she cheered in her high pitched voice, and I yanked out one of my  
headphones.

"What do you want?" I asked, grumpily.

She wasn't discouraged, however. Her bright blue eyes were wide;  
staring at me in what she thought was a friendly manner. It wasn't. She was what others would call adorable, cute even. To me she was just a creepy walking-talking doll. Her unnatural smile was unsettling enough; her teeth pearly white and straighter than I though possible. It was sickening. She will grow up to do _great_ things, I'm sure. I could almost picture her with a 'Miss America' crown and sash. I chuckled to myself. I bet she would have a name like Cherry, or Cindy, like that girl in that zombie movie. You know, the one that got ripped apart after being crowned the prom queen? Yeah, that one.

"Me and my mommy are sitting in there!" she said, pointing her small (manicured, even!) finger to the seats next to me. I looked back down the aisle to see the mother hauling a pink bag the size of a mini fridge towards us. Their resemblance was striking.

"So?" My face was blank. The headphone in my hand buzzed a slightly incomprehensible version of my music to the people in the seats around us. The girl stood quietly for a moment but then plowed on.

"I need to get through, please." Her eyes sparkled.

I wasn't going to move even if the devil himself asked me to. If they wanted to get in they could just go through the other side. We were in a middle aisle, after all. I put my legs against the seat in front of me to prove a point. The little girls smile faded.

The mother finally appeared behind her child, in all her fancy pageant  
get-up, bag in hand, frowning.

"Excuse miss, can we please get through?" she asked me, motioning to  
my legs. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in my combat boots. That's right, bitch.

"No. Go the other way. No ones over there yet." I said, re-adjusting my position to a more comfortable and permanent one.

"Well I _never_!" she huffed, grabbing the little girls hand and pulling  
her off. People never finished that sentence. Were they going to say 'Well I _never_ had anyone talk to me in such a manner! You should be ashamed, young lady'? If that's the case, why don't they just come right out and say it?

Those are the kind of people that send food back to chefs and ask for it a different way. Listen here, lady. It's called the _Chef's Special_ for a reason! Those kinds of people deserve a good verbal slap. Does anyone agree? It seems I'm the only one to actually initiate the slapping, though. Everyone is too afraid to stand up to people. No one ever does anything. So all the people that deserve a good verbal slap in the face never get one, and continue to rule the world by being fashion-crazy-food-returning-pageant-going-_well-I-nevers_. If only I ruled the world...

I sighed as the little blond girl bounded down my row on the right, and jumped into the seat next to me.

"Do you like princesses?" she asked, once she was situated. I gave her  
a look. One of those 'Okay, your 8 years old but can you really be such an idiot?' looks.

"Do I look like someone who likes princesses?" I asked, feeling ticked  
off. How many hours of this would I need to endure? Blondie (as I dubbed her) frowned at the loud screams coming from my headphones and turned her head away. Thank the lord.

_Whisper whisper  
don't make a sound  
your bed is made  
It's in the ground_

After an insane amount of unnecessary waiting, we finally took off. Blondie jabbered on next to me and I ignored her. Her mother smacked her gum and focused on her blackberry. My music did a  
good job of blocking them out mostly, but sometimes Blondie's little voice  
would break through.

"Have you ever kissed a boy?" she asked, on one of those occasions  
when I could hear her. I wasn't in the mood to talk about kissing with an 8 year old, and even if I was, which I'm not, I wouldn't have much to say.

"Kissing makes your lips fall off, and makes your teeth all black." I  
said, hoping to quiet her. Her eyes widened and she turned to her  
mother to find out the truth. The mom narrowed her eyes at me, and then  
reassured her daughter that kissing did not, in fact, have those  
effects. I chuckled and slumped down farther in my seat.

When we landed in Seattle, I had to get on another small plane to take  
me up to Port Angeles. Luckily, there were no Barbie wannabes on this  
flight and I joyfully sunk down in my seat to listen to my music.

_I could be fake  
I could be stupid  
you know I could be just like you_

The flight attendants did that stupid emergency procedure what-not for  
about half an hour, and then we took off. I was tired, but didn't want  
to sleep. It was a very short plane ride, and I would prefer falling  
asleep in the car with Charlie. Hopefully I could avoid all the  
embarrassing chit-chat. When we landed, I headed out into the airport and grabbed my bag from the luggage section, then met up with my father. He gave me a strange one-armed hug as a welcome.

"Good to see you, Bells." he said, taking my bag and walking with me  
to the parking lot.

"Yup." I didn't say anything else. I wasn't in the mood for talking. I  
just wanted a nice long nap. Luckily he got the message and didn't say  
anything else. I wondered when I would have an opportunity to buy  
myself a car. I had brought along my 'college funds', and was really  
hoping for a speedy purchase. I was okay with driving in the cruiser,  
but for everywhere else I would want to go? I don't think so.

I was almost asleep when I heard the car shut off. Already? It always  
takes me hours to fall asleep though, so I wasn't so surprised. I  
opened my eyes before Charlie tried 'waking me up'. How weird would that encounter be? Out the window, I could see the same little white house that my mother had escaped from with me when I was only 2 months old. I couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like had they stayed together. Growing up here? In the green alien planet that is Forks? I shuddered, then quickly opened the car door and stepped out.

Charlie was already getting my stuff out of the trunk and I stood quietly, grabbing the things he couldn't carry by himself. Once inside, I headed upstairs behind him, slightly sad that he hadn't changed the design in the house at all. Pictures still hung on the wall in the stairwell, one of me for each school year. I looked like a strange, freckled, weakling in the oldest ones. As we progressed up the stairs, I could see myself changing with each frame. The most recent (at the top of the stairs) was last years, and I looked the same as I did now. I hated the old ones, and contemplated removing them, but then I kind of liked the idea of it. It showed my changes, like a time line. I smiled to myself. Charlie's voice interrupted my thoughts. Something about the bathroom?

"Oh yeah. Only one bathroom." I remembered, hoping that was really what he was discussing. He nodded. He then opened the door to my room and explained something about work lamps and the computer Renee insisted upon. I was too focused on the horrible décor.

"You like purple, right?" Charlie sounded fearful of the answer. Purple is okay. I wasn't worried about the purple. It was the pitiful yellow curtains and the shocking blankness of the walls.

"Purple is _nice_." I choked out, sitting down on my bed. Charlie smiled and set my bags on the floor, leaving me to myself. I wanted to redecorate immediately, hang up the posters and pictures I had transferred from my room in Phoenix and take the curtains down, but I was just too tired. I didn't even bother kicking off my combats, just left them hanging over the side of the bed as I lay down. I kept my coat on the keep the cold at bay, and shut my eyes. Just a nap, I reminded myself, and then quickly fell into a light sleep.

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**How was it? Did you guess the songs? Don't forget what I said about ****weasels, it could come up in conversation sometime and **_**then**_** who'd be the one prepared? You, that's who! **

**Xx, Sage.**


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